(((ooc: veldagia - Yey! Welcome back! :D)))
innoscent - No worries. We've decided to keep night 6 running a little bit longer still)))


DAMIAN:

Following his departure from Moira's company, was yet another string of polite conversations and listening to what in Damian's ears sounded very much like simple and cheap attempts to earn his favor; compliments and flattery, phony interest in his opinion and his various dealings in the Kindred and the human worlds. The latter, however, was not to be confused with the rare and often poorly disguised attempts to pry into his life; his personal one as well as his business one. He was a very private person, that kept his personal life and business secrets well guarded. Business deals were often of a rather sensitive nature, and being indiscreet could make someone else catch wind of them, and somehow interfere with Damian's plans.
As for his personal life; the less that was known about his interests and his preferences, his strenghts and his weaknesses, the more powerful he seemed. Mystery gave birth to rumours, and rumours tended to grow into myths holding such conviction that the listener rarely knew whether to believe them or not, and thus often decided to play it safe by refraining from challenging the target of said rumours. Not that Damian felt the need to hide behind embellished stories. He could hold his own in any fight. It was simply that little tricks such as mystery and his ever present sheriff kept people at bay, and spared him the trouble of constantly having to prove himself and his might. Instead, people kept their interest in remaining on his good side and would ever so often try and make sure that they remained there, though such opportunities were rarely given. He didn't fancy night clubs or busy street life. When granted a chance to escape the many troubles and concerns of the Kindred, he often sought solitude. A few moments filled with nothing but peace and quiet. Or, if the mood struck him, the company of a dear friend, or simply someone else whose company he found himself enjoying. And so his popularity at this Ball was hardly a surprise. He had expected to be the target of many encounters of the apple-polished kind. With him rarely venturing out of his office to mingle with the other Kindred of the city, many were now bound to seize the opportunity he (somewhat reluctantly) presented them with.

But, no matter how many craved his attention, he never let it affect his omnipotent diligence, his all-seeing eye never faltered. Despite most of the guests having followed his lead and turned their gazes away from Adrien, there was trouble brewing underneath the surface. Not only because of the hunter, but because of the various conflicts between clans and individuals as well. If something was to errupt this evening, Damian would be prepared. Every now and then he made eye contact with the various 'security guards' scattered around the room, just to make sure things were running fairly smoothly and that there was not yet something for him to take care of or ward off. Everyone seemed to be on their best behaviour, so far. Everyone, but Beyonca. Luckily she had now finished her conversation with Adrien and slipped out the back, leaving the miscreant to loiter about all by his lonesome. Judging by the smug look in his eyes, he found the situation quite amusing.
A fool, to not know any better.
And following Beyonca was yet another. Valerian. Frowning within, Damian watched as the Toreador pup glided between the moving bodies with his usual animal sensuality, following in Beyonca's path and slipping out the back door much like she had done only a few minutes ago, no doubt driven by curiousity of her conversation with Adrien, though well-mannered enough to not approach Adrien himself, at this time. It was another troublesome element. Valerian was the perfect victim for someone such as Adrien, should he test his crimson chains and, god forbid, find that they had weakened enough for him to strike. The raven haired Toreador was too naive and gullible for his own good, and would pose no greater challenge than a sitting duck.
Needless to say, Damian was far from pleased.
But, there was little he could do about it now, and when it came right down to it, it was the Primogen's duty to look after her own, not his. At least not at this point. It was up to her to deal with her young fellow Toreador.
Then again, Damian had his doubts of Jessica's vigilance and of her interest in his concerns lately, and so was far from sure that she would see the same reason to fret as he himself did. Perhaps he better see to it that an eye was kept on Valerian after all, until he found someone suitable to deal with him.
Already he had two possible candidates, for two very different reasons.

Though deciding which one who would have the honor of carrying out his request would have to be a later matter. Currently Valerian was staying safely away from Adrien, and there were too many Kindred around to stand by, should the hunter be foolish enough to try anything. Besides, at this very moment there was something else calling out for Damian's attention. Another tangible presence was fading from the room. Mina's. He looked towards the doors just in time to catch a mere hint of her elegant form disappear beyond the the banqueting hall, and another frown was born within, this time reaching so far as to appear as a small crease between his eyebrows. For a split second, he found himself wondering if he had let the opportunity to talk to her, and invite her to dance, pass him by. He would be most annoyed if it was so. Her company was one of the few things he had actually looked forward to this evening.
However, he soon realized that she had yet to greet Archon, a courtesy he knew she wouldn't neglect, and so his mind settled once again. The realization even brought the shadow of a smile to his lips. Perhaps her temporarily leaving the Ball was not an opportunity missed, but an opportunity granted.

Turning his head ever so slightly, he glanced over at his sheriff and then at the entrance, the mere look in his eyes signalling his silent command for his trusted body guard to step outside as well, and make sure that Mina was indeed still there, and that there was no other unwanted presence lingering nearby. Damian entrusted no one else with his interest in her.
Always attentive to his Prince's wishes, the sheriff saw the signal and obeyed, without making even the slightest sign of having just recieved an order. He knew well that Damian favored discretion.

Before long he returned, and yet again a look was the only communication needed between him and his employer; upon stepping outside, Damian would find things to be very much to his liking. Pleased with such a prospect, the Prince therefore soon excused himself to the Ventrue and the Tremere he was currently speaking to, giving the reason that he had an important phone call to make. That way, no one would get the idea that perhaps he wanted some company as he made his way towards the entrance.

Even before reacing the outside, he felt the welcoming softness of the night air upon his face, and he closed his eyes ever so briefly in memory of the sweet clarity granted by a deep, human breath. Things of such simplicity were often the things he would miss. Things so fundamental to a human being that she would rarely give them a second thought. It was the eternal irony of fate; you never knew to treasure what you had until it was gone.

Once outside he slowly descended the stone steps while his senses searched for Mina. His eyes alone did not register her anywhere yet, but he could feel her unmistakable presence nearby, pulling him towards her as if someone had grabbed him by the hand to guide him. It wasn't long before the gleam of her dress as she passed by one of the many garden lights caught his eye, and his legs started eating up the distance that seperated him from her, each step he took causing a gentle whisper from the gravel underneath his shoes. Highly deliberately of course. He wanted her to hear him coming, and not be taken by surprise, as she was still facing away from him, walking aimlessly and seemingly deep in thought. Thoughts that, if Damian was to venture a guess, concerned a certain man with whom she had a painful past. A memory that had plauged her for over a century, a ghost that had now returned as flesh and blood to haunt her more than ever. Though he doubted she would ever let anyone know. Like him she was proud and levelheaded, not prone to show emotion.
And what a sight she was. Even with her back to him he felt her tantalizing allure tug at his male instincts, her presence filling the air with dark mystery and authority that caressed his senses, threatening to seduce them. Of everyone around him, she was probably the most dangerous one. She appealed to him in a way that made him want to trust her; a quality that would blind him from any signs of possible and devastating ulterior motives, if he wasn't careful.

"Toi qui, comme un coup de couteau, dans mon coeur plaintif es entrée."

As he spoke, his steps slowed and he came to a halt, allowing his soft and slightly hushed words to carry all the way over to her. But before she turned, he swiftly offered an explanation, just in case and against all odds, he had confused her. She was a clever lady, and so he trusted she would know what he meant.

"You care for him still?"



(((ooc: Geez... When I started writing this post, I felt I had nothing to write... *LOL*

Oh, and, for those interested in just what the heck Damian is babbling about, go here.)))





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VALERIAN & BEYONCA:

Again there was silence between them, a few seconds of verbal nothingness, of nothing but the distant sound of traffic, while Beyonca herself now took a moment to reflect on her her feelings, much like Valerian had just done. It seemed that underneath it all, she wasn't quite as sure of herself as she seemed, as though the realization of what she had done - of whom she had really just spoken to - had just dawned on her. She had put herself in the path of a notorious killer, allowed him the opportunity to memorize her face, and more importantly to study her; the way she moved, the way she talked, the way she handled herself in general. He was sure to have taken mental notes, registering everything that could be of use, and everything that couldn't be of use as well. One never did know the twists and turns of fate, and what seemingly useless knowledge may come in handy one day.
And yet, with everything that must be running through her mind, there was nothing resembling insecurity about her, nothing to suggest that she was doubting the wisdom of her choice to approach Adrien. Almost as though it didn't matter, as though she didn't care if she had provided him knowledge that most would deem wise to deny him?
Why...?
Had she grown born of her eternal existence, like so many others, and simply decided to walk the thin line between unlife and final death, just to spice things up? Or was she seeking to truely challenge fate?

"Yes, I would think some would boil with hatred for me just as much as there blood boils for Adriens", she finally said, leaning back against the wall, caring little that perhaps the dirty brick would stain her lightly colored dress. "There is no doubt in my mind I will get a good lashing."

At her last words, Valerian winced ever so slightly, his flourishing Toreador empathy immediately flooding his mind with visuals and feelings, just as she turned her head to lock gazes with him.

"It will probably be more severe from others than my own primogen", she added. "I will be sure to watch my back."

Valerian nodded slowly, knowing well that she was most likely right. The others hadn't taken kindly to her conversation with Adrien, and Archon - a man with a strong belief in good manners and respect, and that the actions of a Kindred reflected on their entire clan - would surely be far from pleased. She had tainted the high esteem of the Ventrue. Even a Toreador such as Valerian knew that. But still he hoped that she would be completely and utterly wrong in her statement, for her own sake. He would hate for her to get into trouble again over this, especially since she would need friends and allies, should Adrien choose to come after her. But if antagonised by her actions this evening, there were some that would not make haste to come to her aid. And to Valerian, she didn't deserve that, as she surely hadn't meant any harm. It had been a bit thoughtless perhaps, but hadn't she also taken the chance to find out more about Adrien de la Cour, the enemy they had all had in common for over a hunded years? She had probed him, even if ever so slightly, and was bound to have learned something of value about him, no?

"Do you think I have done wrong by talking to him?" she asked, her voice bringing him out of his inner reasoning in her defense. "Do you think I should worry for my own safety now?"

A most odd question to ask him, Valerian, who most thought of as credulous and gullible, sweet and unsuspecting, simply because of his affectionate nature. True, perhaps he was a bit too friendly at times, but that didn't make him easily fooled. He socialized for a living, he was bound to be well versed in reading people's intentions.

"I think...", he started, once again taking his time to choose his words with care. "... perhaps your timing was wrong. Though at the same time, and in a way, it was most wise of you to approach him with so many people around, instead of seeking him out in some remote back alley. And you also gave everyone an opportunity to study him."

He paused briefly, and pursed his lips a bit in a look of contemplative dismay, and then finished;

"But, I fear not many share my opinion. However, I do doubt anyone will go out of their way to harm you, but still... Be careful. Please."

Beyonca couldnt help but notice the slight wince Valerain made whens he spoke of getting hurt. It some ways it surprised her but in another way it didnt. He was a kind and gental kindred. Wishing no harm to anyone. He must have felt some pain to hear of her to be punished in a way. The only surprise was she wasnt really exspecting it. For the slightest minute she forgot just how sensitive Valerian was. It put a reminder in her to maybe choose her words more carefully.

Though he did seem a bit startled and surprised by her question to him. Bee didnt ask him really for a decision, but for a backup of her own thoguhts. She was confident that she knew what was coming. Laying low and off the radar would be wise of her. Though it would be unwise to remain alone around the kindred she could not trust.

"I think...", he stated, looking deep in thought of words. "... perhaps your timing was wrong. Though at the same time, and in a way, it was most wise of you to approach him with so many people around, instead of seeking him out in some remote back alley. And you also gave everyone an opportunity to study him."

Bee watched him carefully as he spoke. He really was thinking of the right words to tell her. She could understand what he said. There was negitives and positives in what she had done. Her head leaned just a slight to the side as her amber stones studied him as he spoke to her.

"But, I fear not many share my opinion. However, I do doubt anyone will go out of their way to harm you, but still... Be careful. Please."

She just looked at him for a moment letting his words roll through her head. It seemed as though he did care what happened to her. But really she couldnt exspect any less of him. Valerian cared for all including Bee. A little breeze blew and the tiny strands of hair that was not up made its way to try and tickel her cheek. She let the feeling seep in her body. There was something in her trying to tell her something, but what she couldnt make of it. It wasnt a bad or a good feeling. She just felt something. Like something was hiden in her that needed to be freed. A warm considerate smile came to her lips.

"I will Valerian. That I can promise you. There is something in me that doubts any real harm will come my way. Though I can never be to careful."

Her eyes drifted to the cold hard ground and then brought it back to him.

"Do you truely worry so much for me? Is it the reason you followed me out here?"

There had always been a gentleness to Valerian; a warmth in his eyes and a softness in his manners. Even as a human, subjected to the various hardships of mortal life, he had never turned bitter and jaded, like most would have. Instead, his humility towards life and everything in it had grown, along with his appreciation for everything holding even an ounce of pleasantry. He had learned to see the small blessing and miracles happening everywhere around him, and he never tired of them, nor did he ever take them for granted. Not even when his embrace had turned them into an endless string of every day occurances in his eternal unlife.
He was sensitive, even for a Toreador, filled with an adoration for all things living, and he often wore his heart on his sleeve. He knew it, and he also knew that at times it was all too evident. Yet many seemed to be taken by surprise when it dawned on them that he truely cared about them, out of empathy, without a shred of ulterior motives clouding his intentions.
Beyonca was no exception. The fleeting look on her face as he spoke, even as he winced at her words, revealed that he left her feeling somewhat surprised. Which really wasn't all that surprising. With the way everyone had glared at her inside, it mustn't had seemed very likely to her that the first person to come after her would be someone of Valerian's friendly nature. And yet in a way it seemed the most appropriate thing. She had approached Adrien, the outcast, and now Valerian was approaching her, who, while she wasn't exactly an outcast, would surely be given the cold shoulder for a while. History had a tendency to repeat itself, although it usually took a lot longer to do so than a mere ten minutes. And, while Beyonca's boldly curious yet placid character could hardly be justly compared to Valerian's caring one - they were indeed very different, the two of them - their actions this night did carry similarities.

"I will Valerian", she said, and her face slowly lit up with a warm, most endearing smile. "That I can promise you. There is something in me that doubts any real harm will come my way. Though I can never be too careful."

With that she glanced away for a second, her gaze momentarily dropping to the ground before finding it's way back to Valerian. He was hoping her gut feeling was to be trusted, and that she was right in what she had just said, that no harm would come to her. He too had doubts that anyone would try to inflict physical pain in her, just like he had said. But there were many other ways to hurt someone. For over a century he had watched humans and Kindred, seen them participate in various quarrels and vendettas, backstabbings and deceptions, and had thus become quite familiar with such methods of going after someone.
And, being the 'pet' of a shrewd and cunning, and sometimes downright cruel woman such as Claudia, he was bound to have learned a thing or two from her as well.

"Do you truely worry so much for me?" Beyonca questioned, putting her thoughts into words. "Is it the reason you followed me out here?"

At that Valerian couldn't keep a slightly bashful grin from forming on his lips. All of a sudden he felt very transparent. There was, after all, another and somewhat bigger reason why had had followed her in the first place. In fact, at that very moment, it had been his only reason for following her, his mind filled with concern for Vevila. It was only once he had stepped outside and come face to face with Beyonca, that she too had roused his worry.

"Well...", he started, sounding almost like a boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and glanced down at his shoes in a look to match. "In all honesty... No."

His pale sapphire gaze returned to meet her predatory amber one, and the vague smile on his lips widened into one beseeching her to not be annoyed or disappointed with him.

"I was curious of monsieur de la Cour...", he said truthfully. "... but would much rather speak with you, than with him, and hear of your impression."

Outside the night was still, a gentle hush hung upon the air, scented by the sweet floral oudors of the garden. One note especially tantalised Mina's nostrils, the exoic sensuality of jasmine. She reched down a plucked a single white floral star from its stem. Holding it delicatly betweeen her fingers she inhaled the scent before releasing it to the wind with a single wish. Bring me stillness. As she continued strolling through the garden a calmness flowed around her that allowed escape from the tensions that gathered inside the ball but her own inner turmoil remained.

Memories plagued her. Burried within her dreams for a century they now rose with the demon out of the fire of her heart. The gentle caress of his thumb against her cheek and the soft smile that had graced his lips tormented her thoughts. When life had seemed so meaningless Adrien had gifted her with his amber tainted blood. A taste that had preserved her eternal existance for one more night. She could not believe it had all been an act. Within his eyes she had seen the hesitation, had known that she had reached him on some level. Was that why they sent him to her? Did they expect that she could draw some feeling from that cruel heart once again?

The soft crunch of gravel alerted Mina's senses drawing her from the thoughts of Adrien and how she was to handle this most delicate of matters for her clan. In less than a blink of an eye she identified the foorsteps as they gained upon her. The cloud of thought melting from her face to be replaced by a faint smile. Most would not dare to approach and disturb a Primogen from their thoughts, fearing an icy wrath to greet their interuption. But Damien was one who she would gladliy break the solitude for. A man she could respect for his mind drew together the same logical coherence.

Still she wondered what had drawn him out away from his grandose celebrations where he stood a figurehead before the kindred of LA. Did he too seek the silent solitude of thought? Or was he seeking her out? Feeling the omniscient solidity of his prescence behind her she paused graceful awaiting for him to join her.

"Toi qui, comme un coup de couteau, dans mon coeur plaintif es entrée." Daminan's hushed words fell upon her ears breaking the stillness of the night with his dignified charm as he stopped behind Mina. "You care for him still?"

Mina turned slowly to face Damian the smile vanishing into a tranquil crimson line but the thoughts that troubled her remained in her gaurded eyes. There was only one person that he would question her feelings for. The man who had broken through the ice cage that surrounded her heart once before, the only one she had trusted since her sire, and the one who had ultimatly betrayed her.

"I am not fond of Adrien but it is my duty to guide him as he is one of my clan." Mina replied softly. As the Prince of the city she did not doubt that Damian would understand the chains that such duty entailed. The binding that her clan placed around her neck by their insistance that the neophyte resided within her domain.

Yet she knew that her words did not fully answer his question. But how could she ever explain the complexity of emotion that Adrien drew from her, the crushed hope, pain, longing, anger and the awareness that one day they would all die alone. For to do so would reveal vulnerability, that behind the veil of illlusion there was a soul which could feel and therefore be hurt. .

But as Mina's eyes rose to Damian's face she was reminded again that it was a man that stood before her. He was a Prince, a mighty vampire, a ruler but beneath it all, under the mask he wore like her own, was a kindred soul. And to him more than anyone else she owed honesty. "I did care deeply for him once." She paused curtailing the venom which threatened to poison her soft voice. "But he destroyed it with the same cosumptive hatred which he casts upon us all." A hint of sadness clouded her eyes for a moment but as she blinked, the long dark lashes brushed it away ro replace it once again with the usual glittering intellegence that burned from within. "My heart belongs only to myself."

((OCC Sorry for the delay Atropa))

Although soft and hushed, there had been a cruelty to Damian's words. Or rather, a frankness. One of which he was most aware. He wasn't the kind of man that would tiptoe around a matter, unless there was something in it for him or he was intentionally trying to be vague. He expected people to realize it, and respect him for it. When there was something he wanted to know, and he deemed himself able to afford letting on that he did have an interest in whatever it was, he was to the point, although rarely blunt. Instead he wrapped his inquiries in eloquent words, or even words of beauty, dressing his intentions in lines from a poem. Like just now. One could hardly call him a romantic, but like any noble, he was well versed in the various arts, even though he remembered such things with his head and only rarely with his heart. He remembered them not for their beauty, but for a purpose, for the fact that they one day may come in handy, for whatever reason.

This time, part of the purpose had been to soften the blow of his question. He knew that it had been perhaps a little bit too invasive. And if he hadn't, the look on Mina's face as she turned would've made him aware of it. The hint of a smile that had graced the corner of her mouth - the only part of her bloodred lips that he had been able to see with her back towards him - upon hearing his voice, had quickly faded as soon as she registered his actual words, and when she had fully turned, it was but a memory, a fleeting shadow of the past. Along with her penetrating yet reserved emerald orbs, that look spoke volumes.
He had hit the nail right on the head.

Still, there was nothing hostile in her voice when she parted those crimson lips to speak. Only a soft calm.

"I am not fond of Adrien", she said. "But it is my duty to guide him as he is one of my clan."

For the briefest of moments, Damian simply looked at her. His dark ashen eyes studying her emerald ones, his mind analyzing her words to draw some kind of conclusion. Then, he simply inclined his head in a barely perceivable gesture of confirmation that he knew what she meant. He himself often suffered under the responsibility to look after those of which he wasn't particularly fond. And when it came to Adrien, he would be a cross for the both of them to bear.
However, Damian also trusted that Mina knew what he had meant. The answer she had given was not the answer he was looking for. But he would not ask again. He may not be very pleased with the answer, but she was off the hook, for now.

Yet, as she lifted her head to look at him with that reserved albeit cordial glow in her eyes, her gaze turning from the grass below to rest on his features, something within her seemed to soften. Perhaps she could read his real reasons for asking on his face. Had she been just anyone, just another Kindred, his eyes wouldn't have revealed much of anything. But like him, she often wore a most impenetrable mask, and thus would've learned to catch a glimpse of whatever was behind such a mask.
He asked not only because of concern for her, but for himself as well. He realized what an enormous and cruel burden her elders had put on her shoulders. Sadistic almost. And it worried him that she would feel as though she was under attack from her own, from the very Kindred she should be able to lean on for support.
But...
He also asked as man whose interest she had piqued, an admirer intrigued by the mystery that surrounded her, and the way her brilliant and possibly deviant mind worked. A ruler enticed by her strong integrity and her competence. And, a man attracted by her beauty and her femininity.
In short, a gentleman who sensed there may be a reason for jealousy. Or as Damian would rather label it; competitiveness.

"I did care deeply for him once", she said, pausing briefly in an effort to rid her voice of the venom Damian had sensed in her ever since she had laid eyes on Adrien the night before. "But he destroyed it with the same cosumptive hatred which he casts upon us all."

Another pause, as a shadow almost too vague to grasp flitted across her face. Still, Damian caught it, as he was watching her closely, and he couldn't help but to feel honored that she would allow him a glimpse of her torment. She was starting to get personal, in a way that wasn't meant to lead towards a business arrangement.

"My heart belongs only to myself", she finished, and with those words she was back to her usual calm and collected self, in full control of the emotions (or lack thereof) displayed on her face.

Reluctant to push things further, Damian simply nodded, having decided to leave it at that, for now. It wasn't that he didn't believe her, or even that he thought she wasn't fully aware of the effects Adrien had on the heart he had left black and bruised. It was simply that while she said it belonged to no one but herself, Damian was unsure of how susceptible it would be, should Adrien for some reason decide he wanted to try and breathe new life into the feelings she had once had for him. Granted, his chances of succeeding were slim to none, but again, Damian was the kind of man who took into consideration all possible scenarios. And this, no matter how impossible it seemed, was one, despite that fact that the path Adrien was on, was leading him no closer to feelings of affection or concern for anything but his own twisted goals.

"It's quite ironic, isn't it?" he said, while slowly starting to move forward again, to annihilate the remaining distance between them, his eyes scanning the surroundings with the deftness of a skilled observer before returning to meet with Mina's. "He despises us and regards us as nothing but monsters. And yet, with the power of a few simple words alone, you show more humanity than he himself seems capable of."

With that he came to a halt right infront of her, and offered her his arms, in a silent but polite request to accompany her on the rest of her stroll around the gardens.

"Perhaps his transformation into what he so loathes, is not on Kindred heads alone," he added. "But on his as well."



(((ooc: Everyone - Night #7 will be called on Sunday.)))

((( ooc: Everyone - I just wanted to let you all know, that I have changed the ending of my last post - number 999 on page 40 - to suit the fact that we changed back to night 6. Sorry for the delay. Archon is approachable. )))

A smile of her own appeared on Bees face as Valerians aura changed. It was almost as if he had just remembered why he came out here in the first place. Perhaps she was right in her first thought of the fact he hadnt came out here to worry over her, but to know Adrien. There never was a dobt in her mind that it was the true reason, but still she felt ....... relived, to have a worry over for her if even for a second.

"Well...", he started, sounding almost like a boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and glanced down at his shoes in a look to match. "In all honesty... No."

Still a smile was on her face when he confirmed her thoughts. The only difference was her eyebrow raised as if questioning the answer she already knew. No pain was in her from the neglect of him thinking of her first. There wasnt the tinest hint of sorrow at all. After all these years of lonliness, it was hard to actually get a feeling out of her. The only person she had cared for was Mathew, and well she waqs over that now. Back to the way she felt before even meeting him. Though when he lifted his eyes from the ground and gave her one of his dashing smile, she couldnt help but let her own widen. It looked as though he was a boy asking for forgivness for doing something wrong. As if she would be mad at him for some reason. But how could she be mad at him? A small chuckled left her.

"I was curious of monsieur de la Cour...", he said truthfully. "... but would much rather speak with you, than with him, and hear of your impression."

Her smile smalled a tad bit. He wanted to know of her impression of Adrien. Could he really handel what she actually thought of him. Again she struggled with what to tell him. Would he understand the curiosity she had in him?

"Adrien..." she started, " Well he is just an interesting character. Do you wish to know of I think if he will go on a murderous rampage anytime soon?"

Again she looked away from him and thought of the conversation she had had. Would he be stupid enough to go on with his work? It would suicidal to do, at first. Maybe his wish was to try to gain trust from the kindred before going on and killing again. No, that wasnt him. He enjoyed the scared looks of all the kindred when seeing him, but he is not stupid at all.

" No. He wont. Not right now anyway. He is a very smart man. I dont know why I think so, but it is a feeling in me that he wont be killing at the moment. But I cant say if he will or wont in the future. No one can predict what is in his mind."

The hint of mischief once again appeared in her eyes with out her knowing of it. She didnt mention the fact that the only insurance she had is that he wont forget her.

((OCC Atropa really sorry I've not had chance to respond yet. Feel free to move Mina around etc. if I don't post again before tomorrow.

Everyone - I'm going to be away for the next week. My internet is due to be cut off at any point in next 24 hours!!! Hopefully I'm getting it put back in on the 12th.))

(((ooc: veldagia - No worries. Hope to see you back soon. )))

Upon seeing the tiny smile that appeared on Beyonca's blood red lips, Valerian was instantly relieved. While he'd had his doubts that she would be truely angry or otherwise displeased with him, he hadn't been too sure. Beyonca was a bit of an enigma, even to him, and so he wasn't about to fool himself into thinking he could predict what her reactions or even words would be. In fact, he found himself wondering if there was anyone that could. She was somewhat like a riddle where the answer would tease your mind yet stay just out of reach, a guessing game where the solution seemed obvious and yet so very intangible that you did not dare to trust your instincts. With her, the only thing Valerian was certain of, was that he was not the first to be intrigued by her ways. She was a walking contradiction; possessing many of the stereotypical traits of the Ventrue, and yet coming across as something quite out of the ordinary in her clan.
Though that would be a big part of what made Valerian attracted to her. Granted, he was attracted to pretty much everyone, but it was a genuine attraction, and there were not two people that held the exact same allure to him. They were all different to him, even when to most they would seem similar. One attraction didn't lessen the sincerity and the worth of another.

"Adrien..." Beyonca said slowly, with the smile weakening just a little bit, as though the thought of the former hunter drained her of all mirth offered by Valerian's boyish charm. "Well he is just an interesting character. Do you wish to know of I think if he will go on a murderous rampage anytime soon?"

Her gaze drifted away from him yet again, and distance glaced her eyes as she obviously thought back on the conversation she had had with the notorious de la Cour, and the impression he had left her with. Her opinion had most likely already been formed, but putting it into words was a task of an importance that she wouldn't neglect. She took great care choosing the proper words for her answer.

"No", she finally stated. "He wont. Not right now anyway. He is a very smart man. I dont know why I think so, but it is a feeling in me that he wont be killing at the moment. But I cant say if he will or wont in the future. No one can predict what is in his mind."

'A smart man'... Yes, he would have to be, in order to survive for so long, despite the fact that Kindred had wanted him dead for decades. Several attempts had been made to track him down, but he had always withdrawn into the shadows, leaving all traces to vanish into thin air.
But indeed the tables had recently been turned on him, and he was now not only fully exposed, but ridden by a hunger that if not tended to would rob him of all self-control, as well as powers he had not learned to master. Dangerous still? Yes. A highly skilled actor and deciever? Indeed. Possibly lethal if underestimated? No doubt.
But, currently carrying many, many disadvantages.
The problem was, many Kindred would now line up to show him exactly what they thought of him, and with each attack, he would learn more. Not only about them, but about himself as well. And knowledge was power. Literally.

However, this answer was only a small part of what Valerian had wanted to know. Now that he could a rest just a little bit easier regarding Vevila's, and Beyonca's well-being, he wanted to know more about Adrien himself; how he carried himself, how he spoke, , what he had said.
But, he didn't want to bother Beyonca about it any further, and so decided to leave it be. There were other things he wanted to talk about anyway.

"I wish I had your courage", he said and looked at the fair young woman with admiration in his twinkling eyes. "But I fear the looks you recieved from others have rendered me a coward."

Now, 'cowardice' was a rather strong word for simply wanting to please, but Valerian never had been a stranger to exaggeration in order to paint a vivid picture in the listener's mind. And everyone knew it.

"However", he added. "They will not prevent me from making a humble request."

Using his shoulders he pushed himself away from the wall, and as another charming smile claimed his lips, he made an elegant yet swift bow infront of Beyonca.

"May I have the honor of dancing with a woman of such beauty and bravery?"


(((ooc: Not my best, but I'm way tired, so... )))

#15 [Sixth Night]

As Archon beheld the Kindred before him, and all around him, he felt as the centerpiece regarding one of the questions on most minds. It was visible in their eyes, revealed by a simple gesture or even detected in their attempt to seem oblivious. How did the presence of the hunter affect the Ventrue Primogen, the intended focal point of the ball? Though Archon was not known to give much away, it did no discourage others from trying to read him. And this was a situation where no one would blame him for being aggravated, but instead they found nothing more than a calm exterior, with the occasional soft smile. He gave them nothing, no more than he usually did. Even if Archon had not gotten used to the fact of Adrien de la Cour, he did not let his initial anger linger. It would serve no real purpose to let anyone in on how he really felt, since containing his emotions was done for a reason.

Then he saw his first Malkavian for the evening, or even since his return. It was a young woman, with long curly hair and a bewildered look in her eyes, dressed in a very old gown. Most of the older Kindred enjoyed to dress up in clothes of the past, in an attempt to reminisce that which was lost to them all. But not many of them actually had clothes left from that time, and if they did it was well taken care of and rarely worn. Instead they had clothes made for them in new, fresh fabric. This woman, however, had on a dress that took Archon back to France in the 18th century. Vintage would be an understatement, as it seemed to be falling apart. It had certainly been white once, with delicate lace and a beautiful trail. All that was left was a dirty grey attire, with torn fabric dragging behind her. A poor memory of the work by the dressmakers of that particular time, and they would surley break down in tears had they been alive to see it in it's present state. Without doubt, as it even hurt Archon to just bare witness. None the less, the woman seemed proud, and held the dress with both hands as if she was careful not to tread on it. She acknowleged Archon with a little curtsy, and a couple of sentences that took the shape of a puzzle box in his mind. All he could decode was that she was happy to see him, and welcomed him back. As she threw in a few more words, he knew she was at least mentioning the hunter, but Archon could not point out her opinion in the matter. He had seen her prior to this event, but he did not know her name, and she had not been around for a long time since before Archon left on his journey.
She held out a closed hand with a smile that was both sincere and childlike. Archon raised his head a bit, looking straight into her eyes, as if to see if there was a catch. He deemed it harmless to recieve what ever she was about to give him, and therefore he held his hand under hers as she unclutched it. Something velvety fell into his hand, and as she went on to talk to others, he looked down and saw a small purple pouch. He could feel that it was some kind of jewlery in it, probably a necklace. But instead of taking a look at it, it was soon gone from his possession. Roe walked by and they exchanged the pouch like the best of theives, for no one to notice.

This was truly a night for anything but the simplicity of enjoyment. Although Kindred seldom waged wars against each other, they did not live in constant peace and consideration. Archon was surrounded by friends as well as foes, as was most of them. The real trick was to know who had what in mind. Archon was a good judge of character, and he had a flow of information that never ceased. This was vital for his survival. Anyone who was a Primogen or a Prince had to be cunning and always on guard. For there were shadows inside the shadows.

While the music kept playing and the guests kept interacting, Archon watched them all. He came to think of the time when he was younger, still kine and still unaware of the mystical powers dwelling in the night. Being fortunate enough to be born in high society, he experienced many things at an early age. The one thing that really scared him when he was a boy was the church. But as he grew older he began to turn his back on the teachings of the priests, and when he turned Kindred he was already convinced that even if god was not a figment of man's imagination he was not the great empyrean king that he had been told.
The beginning of a latin hymn, more common back then, soon emerged in his mind.


Dies iræ! dies illa - - - - - - - - - - - Day of wrath! O day of mourning!
Solvet sæclum in favilla - - - - - - - See fulfilled the prophets' warning,
Teste David cum Sibylla - - - - - - - Heaven and earth in ashes burning!

Quantus tremor est futurus, - - - - Oh what fear man's bosom rendeth,
quando judex est venturus, - - - - when from heaven the Judge descendeth,
cuncta stricte discussurus! - - - - on whose sentence all dependeth.


This shard of a distant memory brought a hint of a smile to Archon's lips. It was a smile of nostalgia, and a smile of more a sinister nature. He might have been scared as a boy, sitting in the pew and seeing the priest as a daunting figure high up on a seat of power. Although he had not understood a single word, the way the priest spoke them was enough to ensure little Archon would have nightmares that would make him wish he was dead. This fear lasted until he grew older, and started to learn the meaning of the words. He was nothing short of disappointed. No matter how many deleterious thoughts he had, no matter how many bad things he did, no mighty god would descend from heaven and smite him. And no man could ever come up with an explanation to satisfy him.

Even if Archon had turned his back on the church, he knew the legend of his undead existance was strongly linked to the christian tale. But the kine rarely spoke of Caine and his fate after killing his brother. It was as if it was a territory so dark and menacing no kine man dared to enter it. Not even with words. It was also a territory hidden in darkness, just as the story of Lilith. Archon believed that if they were ever to find out the truth of their forefather, it would also be the end of them all.

An enchanting flute broke the silence after the last waltz, it was an ethereal prelude to the next melody that would draw more Kindred to the dance floor. Archon turned to the windows, taking a look at the moon to decide the time. Daylight was only a few hours away. Soon the ball would come to an end, scattering the Kindred into the night. As he turned to face the crowd again, he saw Moira Sushill approaching. She looked quite determined, and seemed to be on her own. No Prince, no other Toreador in her company. Though she did steal a glance or two from the Kindred she passed by, and some of them could not help but follow her with their gaze, she did not divert from her path.

“Lord DeWinter, I hope I'm not intruding?” she said. “I simply wanted to thank you for a most interesting opportunity, being here tonight has had its revelations. We who lived longest know how few and far in between truly unprecedented gatherings of our kind can be. I hope certain...events have not deterred you from fully appreciating the event.”

To this, Archon simply smiled and gave a polite nod in greeting. He was not deterred, as she put it. And even if he had been, it would not have been something he had wished to talk about. Yet, he recognized her intention to pay respect and show her gratitude.

"Lady Sushill", he replied. "Your attendance to our festivity has been most welcome. There is nothing for you to intrude on. I am merely contemplating this grand evening, and I find nothing that would keep me from appreciating it. Our Prince certainly knows how to arrange a ball."

She truly was a new and fresh addition to their city, and to their Toreador clan. Even if it was just temporary. He gathered that the Kindred of London missed her greatly, and would anticipate her return. He wondered how the lack of a Primogen affected each clan, if the Toreador suffered more than the Ventrue for instant. They probably did. He came to think of his meeting with Valerian last night, when Jessica had entered his chambers. The young man had been in awe, completley devoted to her presence. Even if every clan needed a strong hand to lead them, some managed better than others when that strong hand was taken away. As well as the result varied.

"Since you are in our great city", he continued with a smile. "I have to encourage you to visit The Haven. The proprietor is a remarkable young Toreador, and you simply can not leave our domain without meeting him. It would be a crime for any Toreador. His name is Valerian."





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((( ooc: Ghanima - Long post, I know. I thought I would be hard to write it, and instead it kinda wrote itself. )))

#16 [Sixth Night]

Even if Archon's business sense was always on high alert, evaluating each situation as if it was a business deal or transaction, he did find the time to enjoy simple pleasures such as occasions like the present one. However, something had dampened him. It was not only the revelation of the hunter. Archon felt he had a vast agenda on his hands since his return. Not only had he learned disturbing facts on his trip, but they seemed to pile up on him as he had sat foot on american soil. Normally, Archon would rise to the occasion without any pensive thoughts. This was not the case on this evening. Maybe the New World moved too fast, and the young ones among them did not see why they should care for the old one. It started to be evident, he and the older Kindred with him had to abide by the new times and learn the rules... Yes. But not so much abide as learn the rules; in order to break them, to use them to their advantage. Archon would never give in, he would never let the young ones dictate their way of life. Instead, he would make sure the Old World became ever present, instead of being just a scary tale. If they could not appreciate the heritage from which they all descended, they had to be shown the way. Forgetting the past was not an option, lest they all wanted to perish in the omniscient sun.

The banquet hall was filled with Neonates, Ancillae and Elders. No Metuselahs as far as the eyes could see and the senses could feel; and neither did he expect such ancient creatures to attend. In that regard, they were all little Childer still hearing the tales of Antideluvians and Gehenna. Not even the Elders could flatter themselves with reaching that far into their own history. Archon sometimes got lost in the grand scheme that was their birthright, but still a mystery to them all. It was a thought too great to fathom for any of them. Although Archon had actually briefly seen a Metuselah, he knew no more than anyone else. The features of such an old one did not tell any secrets, far from it. Even the eyes had kept their distance.

And that was a big part of the Old World. The very base of their existance, the cradle of their immortality. Every milestone to their actual beginning had a name and Metuselah was one of them. Archon did wonder, if he would indeed live to see his Metuselah nights. It would be a step closer to the truth, and that was even more intimidating than the priests had been in his childhood. Although these thoughts did not give him nightmares, as this was his very own ancestry and no figment.

Not knowing. That was perhaps the thing that scared Kindred and kine alike, leaving them both with frustration and sometimes violent judgement. Therefore, this was something they had to overcome. After all, the Kindred were the top of the evolution. They could not just give in to any emotion, and act as if the world was their playground. Finding out could also be a treat, and not always a nuisance. The search itself could be entertaining. Such as the exploration of new acquaintances, like Moira Sushill. She was not your usual Toreador, she did not get preoccupied by the beautiful surroundings and she did have a way about her that appealed to the mind of a Ventrue. The business part of it in fact.

“Following such high recommendations, I could not imagine not visiting The Haven”, Moira said. “Thank you for the suggestion; I am looking forward to meeting Valerian, and am pleased to learn that the Los Angeles Toreador Clan has such praise-worthy representatives.”

Indeed, she was like no Toreador he had ever met. The way she expressed herself was formal and to the point. Archon gathered that was a part of why she was Primogen, as the Toreador needed someone who would see not only beauty but also understand and appreciate politics. That was exactly why Valerian would make a terrible Primogen, as he would rather look at the structure of a flower, than discuss worldly matters that he would deem too mundane.

"I would introduce you myself", he said. "But I am afraid I will be engaged else where after this evening, and I am not sure when I will be able to attend The Haven. And I do not promise that which I can not perform."

He paused and took a look around them. No Valerian in sight. And even if he had been in close proximity, he would surley be involved in a conversation or a dance. A man like Valerian was never left alone at a gathering of this kind, and hardly ever any other time.

"I do not see him right now", Archon continued. "Regardless, I believe you would benefit more from his first impression if you let him make it at his own establishment. And please give him my regards when you see him."

As he and Moira parted, after sharing a few more pleasantries, he was approached by more Kindred. It seemed as if his absence had left many wanting. He was presented with a few problems, refreshing ones as they did not oppose a headache for the Ventrue Primogen. Some of them could even be solved right away, with his good judgement. There was the occasional dull Kindred, trying to make conversation with idle chat, but Archon had a good hand with them as well.
The last thing he did before leaving the ball, was to lock eyes with the Prince, telling him with the simplicity of a single look that he was in great appreciation and that he wanted to speak with Damian behind closed doors as soon as possible.





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((( ooc: I changed the ending to wrap up this night. )))

Still the conversationm with Adrien was toying in Bees mind. When would he start killing again? And who would he go for first? Would it be just a random kill? the first person he could get his hands on? Bee thought it somewhat unlikely. If it were her, she would want to go for the person who had hurt her the most. Who had cause her the most pain. It might be his sire he goes for first, but do they live around here? It brought her to the question of why he had came to L.A. in the first place. Now that thought really intreged her. Hopefully she will be able to find out why upon their next meeting.

"I with I had your courage".

That statement brought her wondering mind of Adrien back to reality. It also brought a smile to her lips. Bee really hadnt thought of having courage to got o him. But now she guesses one would need some courage to approach him.

"But I fear the looks you recieved from others have rendered me a coward."
A laugh rang from Bees lips. That was pure exaggeration. Bee had not once thought of Valerian as a coward in any way.

"However", he added. "They will not prevent me from making a humble request."

Bees smile as wide but a questioning look was in her eyes. What humble request would he have? But it didnt take her long to figure it out. He pushed form the wall and made a elegant bow.

"May I have the honor of dancing with a woman of such beauty and bravery?"
Now how could she deny such an offer from Valerian. The smile he had alone could make one just accept right away. She pushed herself from the wall and stood on front of him.

"You flattery me Valerian. How could I deny such a request from you?"
But Bee could feel dawn approaching soon.

"It would be an honor to me to dance with you, but I fear dawn in approaching soon. Do you think there is still time?"

#28 [Sixth Night]

The evening had not been quite like what Carmilla had expected. This time she was on her own, that was enough to grant her an unusual experience, but she had attended gatherings like this before. The thing that set every other event apart from this one, was the hunter. The matter could not be ignored, even if they were all trying hard to ignore the man himself. And it concerned Carmilla and her bloodline more than any other, therefore she felt it was only natural that she was burdened by it. If the revenge taken on hunter did not work, it could give the other clans the opportunity to blame every single Tremere on the face of the earth. How could she not worry, as her very cradle of life was threatened.

Adrien de la Cour did not breathe anymore, he did not have a beating heart within his chest and he did not belong to the kine any longer. Yet, he was more alive than any Kindred in Carmilla's eyes. Perhaps it was due to the fact that he probably was still fighting that he had been Embraced. She could tell that he had not accepted his fate, the cruel change without his permission. Far from it, he seemed to ooze hate for them now more than ever.

Carmilla did not dare to walk closer to the hunter, but she could not help herself from glancing his way every now and then, trying to figure him out. Maybe it was all very simple. He had been a hunter, hating vampires. Now he was one of them, anticipating what would happen. If he wanted to live a bit longer, he would have to leave the vampires alone. And if he wanted to kill them, he had to wait for them to make their first move, even if that did not automatically give him safe passage. Or, he could create a masterplan on how to kill as many of them as possible - before he himself was slaughtered by the beasts. Come to think of it, no matter how simple it seemed, Carmilla was sure there were several catches laying around Adrien like landmines.

It was not only the hunter that caught her eye, she was also looking for her Primogen. But she did not want to disturb Mina, and when she found her on the premises she was always engaged with others. Carmilla deemed it better to wait until another night, rather than intruding on her beloved clan leader. Mina had already done more than enough for her, and Carmilla did not want to steal her time at such an important event. But she was filled with warmth everytime her eyes landed on the fair Mina, as she was a strong role model that would show the way to them all. Carmilla's worries about the hunter faded a bit when she saw or thought of Mina, as she was certain her Primogen would care for them all in that regard.

The only one she exchanged any courtesy with was Beyonca. She did actually met with other Kindred, but it was not more than a greeting. Maybe they didn't know how to interact with her, now that her Sire was not there. Before this ball, they had always talked to her through him. She had rarely been able to reveal herself, her character, to anyone. Mina was the exception, as her Sire could not deny her alone time with Carmilla at gatherings. Even so, Carmilla had been tied to Seath still.

The freedom was some what intimidating, in some ways. She had no one to turn to, to ask for advice, when ever she needed to. But it was also a challenge she had been wishing for, for so long. And she couldn't let herself down now, no matter how hard it would be. She was a Tremere, and they did take care of their own.
She would return to her home at the end of this night, but she wanted to find another place to live. There was a need for new surroundings, to better accommodate her new circumstances.

Carmilla left with the first wave of departing vampires, feeling as if she had attended a twilight zone.





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((( ooc: Since there was no time to write a new post for Archon before the night ends, I wrote a new ending to my last post. It was okay with Ghanima. )))

At her words Damian nodded which Mina took as an acknowledgement of understanding. He was no fool and if she had totally denied any feelings for Adrien she would have been lying to them both. She had cared deeply for him, but that trust had been broken. Now her heart was wrenched only with the memory of Adrien and her sire and how both had hurt and deceived her to further their own ends. Both had gained her trust and destroyed it with a single swoop. She had taken revenge on her sire but Adrian’s was still to come. And for him she would need to be all that more careful for now everyone watched her, waiting to see if she would secure her own downfall and take vengeance.

The ones that suspected her responsible for her sires disappearance still lurked in the shadows, pulling strings amongst the Tremere Pyramid, warily watching her ascent through the clan. And they had a right to be cautious. Mina did not forget or forgive wrongs dealt for her. Merely stored them inside the cold heart until the tides turned and the moment was presented.

"It's quite ironic, isn't it?" Damien said as he closed the distance between them both. "He despises us and regards us as nothing but monsters. And yet, with the power of a few simple words alone, you show more humanity than he himself seems capable of."

The smallest smile tweaked at the corner of her crimson lips at those words. Humanity. That mysterious quality so revered by certain vampires. And a quality that meant a different thing to each who spoke of it. But whatever meaning one attached to the word it was something she could never now attribute to Adrien. For he seemed more heartless than them all.

Damien halted before her, offering an arm in a courteous request. One which she could not decline, despite her wish for solitude. So gracefully her arm linked through his an ancient gesture of alliance. There were none she trusted to share the dark moments and twisted thoughts with. But Damien was the closest of any outside her clan. And he was a man whose thoughts and opinions on matters she could respect. But still the burden of Adrien was her own to bear as the Primogen for her clan.

"Perhaps his transformation into what he so loathes, is not on Kindred heads alone," he added. "But on his as well."

Mina nodded, her slender pale neck inclining gracefully towards him. “Adrien made his own fate as do we all. But what path that fate follows is open to guidance…” Her lips pursed as if to say more, but she held the words back. The paths of the Tremere were known amongst other clans, but the minor details, the quirks and rituals were darkly hidden secrets. And though she trusted the Prince on a more personal level than many of her Tremere peers he still was not privileged to that ancient knowledge.

Mina’s thoughts turned to the reason for this ball. The return of a fellow Primogen Archon DeWinter. And she realized that so preoccupied with her thoughts she had neglected to greet him as the occasion called for. Mina glanced towards the ball as the attendees had started to spill out, returning to their havens before the suns penetrative beams broke apart the night.

One cold pale hand rested upon Damien’s arm as she turned to face him. “If you would be so kind as to offer Archon my greeting and apologies for not presenting them myself.” A small sad smile broke through the mask. As much as she would like to greet Archon herself and secure further their business alliances there were matters she needed to deal with within the clan.

((OCC Atropa sorry its crap, too many distractions at my mums, dog keeps jumping up at me etc....

Hope the last bit works for you and Psyche ))

#17 [Seventh Night]

There was much to contemplate as the sun descended and Archon rose from his slumber to face a new night. The sleep had been deep, as if it had lasted for a hundred years. Despite of this he felt unusually refreshed, and he met himself in the mirror with an indication of a malefic smile. A good way to start an evening, since it hightened his senses. Archon leaned forward, supported by his hands on the bathroom table, looking steep into his own eyes in the gilded mirror. Yes... He had grown old. But from time or wisdom, that was not yet determined. The hazel orbs, looking back as if they belonged to another man, seemed filled with a long life of both pleasure and sorrow. He was content with the past, with his choices. Of course, there were times when he wished he had taken another path, but hindsight did no good. You should accept your mistakes, make amends if necessary and avoid making the same mistakes in the future. Grieving for that which has been changes nothing, and Archon believed the wrong turns helped to form the man he was now.

The night before him was rather grand. This was his opening night for a new meeting place for his fellow Kindred. It had been in the works for a long time, and there were rumours that the Ventrue planned something, but no one knew but the ones affiliated with the project. This had been a different experience for the Ventrue Primogen, as he sat his Ventrue taste aside and had to explore new ways to create. Had he built a grandiose place, in which every Ventrue immediately would feel at home, few others would come. It was also the reason why he was not going to have a traditional opening ceremony, as it was certainly the Ventrue way. Even if other clans would also inaugurate at times, Archon did not feel it was appropritate in this case. Instead, he would open for business and let the news travel as word of mouth. It would probably suit the other clans better. And if he had wanted a big opening, he would have had to wait, since it would be disrespectful to have it so close to the Prince's banquet.

He dressed himself in black; in a suit with a white shirt underneath and golden cuff links with the letter "V". The suit had an oriental cut to it, and made him look both strict and comfortable at the same time. The long raven hair was left alone, giving it the freedom to flow free over his shoulders as he moved. Archon left his chambers rather hasty, since time was of the essence. There was much to do, and limited time to do it in. He carried his suitcase in one hand, containing needed paperwork for the evening, and in the other he held a document he scanned briefly. A nod was all Roe recieved as a greeting, and it suited them both fine, as no one felt the urge to talk more than needed at the moment. They headed for the front door, and on the way to the car, they were accompanied by a Ventrue female. Archon handed the document to her, exchanged a few words regarding the opening, and then all three got in the car.

A bit later, Archon could see the sign over the entrance of The Haven through the window, and it was his cue to close his laptop as they would soon come to a stop. Roe opened the door, and when Archon got outside he took a good look at the building before him. It towered aloft, three stories high, and he owned every single brick it was made of. There was also a sign hanging over this entrance, but it was still covered with a tarp, as was the windows from the inside. The sight filled Archon with warmth, as it intrigued him to have such a mystical place in his possession. He had not been there since his departure from the city, and it was now supposed to be finished according to his instructions. Exactly this was the responsibility of the Ventrue woman, and she was also the one opening the large front door and letting Archon and Roe in.
They were met with an intimate and genuine ambiance; warm dim light from several sources, a welcoming setting with comfortable armchairs, small ancient tables in robust mahogany and bookcases along the walls. Near the door there was also a counter, behind which another woman was standing with a pile of books infront of her. To any Kindred, she was undoubtedly a Tremere. She glanced towards them over the edge of her small black glasses, not really revealing how she felt about the company. Archon had handpicked the few Kindred that was involved in starting this combined bookstore and café, and she was one of four. The other three were Ventrue, and two of them would move on to other businesses after a few nights, as their work would be done. Leaving Archon with the Tremere and a Ventrue male, to run his bookcafé for him.

Archon greeted Julia the Tremere and exchanged a few words, although she seemed on her guard. She had not joined them reluctantly, it was her uncanny love for books that had interested Archon in the first place, but she seemed to evaluate him everytime they met. And, as he had noticed, she had that approach to most Kindred outside her own clan. But he did not expect a Tremere to met him with open arms any time soon, after all, he was not only Ventrue but the Ventrue Primogen. She was not the only one on guard.
Since they had only so much to discuss, Archon concluded with compliments for her hard and honest work, and then he moved on to inspect the rest.
The first floor was open to anyone, Kindred as well as kine. They could interact, read books, surf the internet and either drink or pretend to drink coffé. The possibilites seemed endless as Archon beheld his surroundings, and in that regard he was thinking of the Kindred alone. The second floor, however, was not for anyone. It was strictly VIP; which meant Kindred. It did also have books, computers and a comfortable setting, allowing the Kindred to socialize without the kine. Further more, the books were older and more suitable for Kindred in the search of information. And if anyone was on the look for more rare books, it would be wise to talk to the owner or his assistants. The third and last floor was private. This was Archon's office, where he intended to have meetings with other Kindred, and where he would spend his time when he needs to work in the center of the city, without the disturbance The Haven offered.

As Archon entered his office, he asked Roe to go down and help the others open up the bookcafé for business. It also gave him the time to get aquainted with his new surroundings on his own. An entire floor for his personal use only had left him with many options. He had chosen to have a large office, and this was where he let his Ventrue taste take over. The walls were windowless wodden veneer, the floor covered with a victorian carpet and the ceiling held a grand chandelier. He had brought paintings and statues that had been stored in his home, to give him inspiration, and he had picked out a large desk, handmade by a Toreador genius in Rome. Besides the office itself, there were also two smaller rooms on either side that did not contain much at the moment - but they had heavy and strong doors in case they needed to protect something. He had also made sure there was a foyer, an entrance hall right above the stairs, that gave a visitor the outlook on three doors - Archon's office being straight ahead.

Downstaris the Kindred took down the tarp, and exposed the name of the bookcafé: Algernon. People passing by stopped to see what was happening, and some of them took it upon them to enter. It was not really for them, even if the kine were allowed in; they were merley used to serve the Kindred's needs. The kine could spark an interest in old immortals, and give the place that human touch that helped avoid suspicion.
Archon sat down behind his desk, starting up his laptop and the stationary computer. He also had a cupboard on his right in the room, containing several screens that would show him what was going on inside Algernon at any given time. But that was when there was a call for it, since he could bring the images from the cameras to his stationary computer on the desk. To Archon, technology was both a curse and a blessing.

When Archon and Roe had left the ball last night, Archon had given Roe the task to make sure Beyonca got a message immediately this night that her Primogen wanted to see her promptly. The Ventrue that Roe in his turn would pass on the task to, would also give her the address to Algernon. All Archon had to do was to carry on with his usual business, and see when she would arrive. He was certain she would come, as he knew her at least a bit more than he knew other Ventrue. She had a courage that he always counted on, but she also had an element of surprise than he was not entirely fond of. And now, she had gone too far, or at least proven her ability to push the envelope. He wished for her to use her daring side to further Ventrue interest intead of her own, especially when they did not agree with her clan. The thing about Beyonca, that was set aside from everything else, was her beauty. She could wrap men around her fingers, and even if Ventrue men were hard to get, they had to make sure her wolf-like eyes did not divert them from their agenda.





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((( ooc: innoscenteyes - I hope what I wrote about Beyonca is okay with you. )))

End of night #6

Like heavy morning mist in early dawn, the air in the ballroom - thick with hatred and malice just waiting to be unleashed - had begun to clear, and the many eyes that had glazed over with a yearning for revenge as the rumour of Adrien's identity spread among them, had now turned from him, and left him abandoned in a barren wasteland. Surrounded by friendliness and amenity, yet not a part of it himself. Left outside in the cold.
In a mere few minutes following the Prince's gesture to resume the festivities, Adrien had gone from being the target of so many contemptuous stares, to being almost completely ignored.
Though he hardly considered it a loss, even if it had been quite educational to watch them watch him.
Despite having been forced to attend the ball this evening, when all he had wanted to do was to reacquaint himself with Los Angeles, and come to know every nook and every corner like the back of his hand - it was knowledge he would no doubt come to need sooner or later - the night had proved to be most interesting. Mina had successfully flaunted his presence and most of all his appearance, certainly, but he had gotten to make quite a few observations of his own. 'Know your enemy' was a strategy that had always worked both ways. And he had managed to cause a bit of trouble amongst themselves, though he mostly had Beyonca to thank for for that. When he had first entered, they had all stood united. But after Beyonca's deed, there was now bound to be a little bit of turbulence, as there were those that would understand her behaviour, and those that would not.
Granted, they were differences that could probably be easily overcome. But as far as Adrien was concerned, every small detail counted.


As the night began to draw to a close, and the guests were starting to say their goodbye's, to eachother, to the host, and to the guest of honor, Adrien decided that he had stayed long enough. He had made a stand, and shown that their hatred would not break him and make him cower, nor would their cold shoulder make him feel lonely or ashamed. To him, each attitude was just another opportunity for him to seize.
As easily as he had used their initial anger and agitation to make himself the centre of attention, to rule the entire room with his presence, as easily did he use their avoidance of him to make himself almost invisible, and leave the ball without anyone noticing.
He was not a master of the shadows for nothing.

Still he found it to be a pleasant surprise to be able to make it all the way back to the Museum without being neither followed nor intercepted. He had expected at least some foolish whelp would see his chance of earning respect among his peers, for attacking Adrien and making him bleed.
But nothing happened, and Adrien could enter the Museum in as good a health as he had left it hours ago.
On the way to his room his eyes roamed the halls and hallways, scanning each of the various items and informative plaques he passed. More out of pure habit than actual interest. Taking in and noticing everything had been a vital part of his survival as a hunter, and still was. Even more so now than ever before, since his location and his appearance had been revealed. And so he didn't fail to notice that although his were the only steps echoing in the large building, he was not alone. Even if he hadn't already known he was being closely monitored, he would've sensed their presence; those damn ghouls, watching every step he made within the walls of this Elysium.
Mina's lapdogs.
It was a thought that made his upper lip curl slightly in a soundless snarl. But rather than stopping and giving even the smallest sign that they were annoying him, he kept on walking, and could soon shut the door to his room behind him and block out the wretched things. Blood guzzling remnants of human beings!



For the second time since his arrival, dawn came and dusk went, without Adrien as much as sitting on the bed in his room. The night passed had done little to make him feel more at ease. On the contrary, he now had an even greater reason to be concerned, seeing as how most of L.A.'s Kindred knew where to find him. Yes, the Museum was an Elysium, but that did not mean that Kindred were stripped of powers and bad intentions by passing through the doors. Even though it would be most disrespectful towards Mina for someone to enter in search of Adrien, and break the rule of no violence that came along with the Elysium brand, Adrien did not put it past any of his enemies to do so.
And even if they were to respect her domain as much as they respected the Prince's, there was still the matter of Mina herself. Adrien had seen the look in her eyes, and sensed her thirst for revenge, and for his blood. Literally. He could not be sure that if he was to go to sleep, he would not wake up to the pain of her fingernails digging into his chest in search of his unbeating heart.

But as much as he tried, he could not avoid nodding off a few times, sitting in the same chair where he had spent the previous day. Only for a few minutes at a time. He was mentally exhausted. Not only because he had to be on constant look out for any possible trouble, but because he refused to let it show how weary it made him. It cost him twice the energy to keep up appearances while watching his back. And he could only fight his needs for so long.
Though the tiniest sound made him jerk awake, and look around, ready to spring from the armchair if needed. He expected possible enemies to not only come through the door, but from anywhere. It was an old building, and old buildings had secret passages. He had yet to find trap doors in this room, but that did not mean there weren't any to be found. He was convinced he had been given this room for a reason, and he would make sure to figure out what exactly that reason was.

However, despite the rare and chopped up minutes of sleep, when finally darkness descended once again and Adrien stood from the armchair, he felt somewhat refreshed and invigorated. Far from fully rested, but at least rested enough to take on another night. Pulling himself to his full 5'10" he made his way towards the adjoining bathroom while slowly unbuttoning the red shirt from the previous night, letting it slide from his shoulders and tossing it on the bed. He flicked the light switch, only to frown as the bright artificial light came crashing down on him. Undoing his raven tresses from the ribbon that had done a semi-decent job of keeping them out of his face, he then turned on the faucet on the sink and splashed his face and neck with cold water, sending tiny droplets to slither down his muscular chest as his fingertips gently grazed the small area just below the nape of his neck, where years ago the letters 'IX' - the roman number nine - had forever been etched into his skin with black ink. That small and seemingly insignificant gesture, along with his other fingers briefly enclosing the two charms he always carried around his neck - the alchemic platinum symbol and the Egyptian sa hieroglyph - was enough to rid his mind of the last traces of slumber, and make him focus.

Fifteen minutes later he left his room, now dressed in dark jeans, an equally dark long-sleeved T-shirt, and the same long leather coat he had worn on his arrival to the city. Tucked in his boot was a knife, and hidden in a fold within the coat was a small gun. Even though they would hardly kill a Kindred, he would be a fool to step outside unarmed. And a fool he was not.

Once outside he stopped for a second to look in either direction, before heading left and blending with the other pedestrians. His stride was confident and determined. He knew where he was going, and when he got there he stopped only briefly at the foot of the wide stone steps outside to look up at the steeple. Then, he ascended the stairs and pushed open the heavy church door, sending a resounding rumble to echo between the sturdy walls as it closed behind him.
Slowly he made his way down the aisle, studying the impressive interior and the scattered works of art depicting various biblical scenes, and eventually slid into one of the pewters. Not to pray, but to seek a moment of peace and solitude, of not having to expect a sudden attack any second. Not even the most vile of creatures would attack him in here.

With a slight sigh, he rested back against the hard wooden bench, and closed his eyes. Ever so slowly, the faint noises around him faded away, and left him to hear nothing but the echo of a heart that had stopped beating three years ago. There was no sound coming from within, nothing to focus on, and to soothe him. And yet somehow he managed to find peace. Be it some higher power, or simply the stillness around him, something allowed all strain and tension to slowly seep from him, and with a breath of serenity peel away every last shred of weariness that clung to his senses, threatening to dull his perception and leave him with no defense against the undead that hungered for his blood.
When once again he stepped outside into the night, into the soft breeze that brushed a few whisps of his ebony hair into his face, his mind was as sharp as ever, his strength renewed. He was now ready to take on whatever the night was to send his way.


(((ooc: Approachable... Kind of. *s* Doesn't have to be outside the church, it can be anywhere on the streets.)))

Beyonca had rose early that night. The sun had not even set yet when her amber orbs came to life. She had done her usual routine of getting ready. This night she had chose to wear something lose and floowing to contidict what she had wore the night before. It was an off white lose krinkled styled skirt, knee length and a thin 3 quarter sleeve sweater and her black heels. It felt relieving to her to have her hair down this night. It somewhat didnt feel right to her to have her hair restricted on her head.

Her mind was entwined with the news when the knock came at her door. Some how in her mind she had already had the idea of who it could be but to double check she checked the peep hole first and saw it was a Ventrue and opened the door. There was no doubt it was a messanger for Archon.

"Yes?" Bee asked.

"Your Primogen has request to see you immediately." A smile came to Bees lips as she was handed a piece of paper with directions on it. She was right.

"Thankyou." It was all she said and nodded to the Ventrue as he left.

She scan the piece of paper. She knew where it was, but hadnt the idea of why he wanted to meet her there. Promptly she grabbed her coat and headed out the door. It would be in her best intrest not to keep him waiting.

The walk there went quick and before she knew it she was outside of a cafe called Algernon. She walked inside and knew immediately Archon had to be the owner. It was furnished with only the best of things. Mostly antiques, which happened to be the Ventrues favorite.

"I am here to see Archon." Bee said to a Gangrel man. He nodded to her and lead her up some stairs to a second floor. The second floor was some what differnt from the first. It looked more lavished like a VIP section. She couldnt help but notice that only kindred was in this section. It must be just for them. A smile appeared on her lips of approval. It was a wounderful place. Quiet and peaceful to say the least.

Then the Gangrel lead her yet another floor. It was beautiful to say the least. A marvelous foyer that lead to three doors. One straight on and two to either side. The kindred left her then and she strod to the door and knocked. Just a soft rap and she waited their patiently for Archon to welcome her in.

(((ooc: Okay, I can't help but to wonder... Where is everyone? Lately we've been like only 4 people to RP regularly, and Christmas/New Years is over. I know veldagia's connection is down, and that trampled seems to have things do deal with as well, but what about Penny, snowdrop, msp_teen, Isley? :/ )))


Dawn. A most remarkable display, a multitude of colours staining the sky, piercing through the velvety thickness of pitch black night. A cold, dark blue at first, just above the horizon, slowly shifting into a soft purple. Then warmth; pink, red, orange and yellow, all at once, forcing their way further and further up, until finally the first rays of sunlight pushed over the edge.
That... That was dawn to the human eyes.
To Valerian, dawn brought other colours. Dark ones, mixing together, creating an array of hues. Black, charcoal, arsenic, slategrey, dimgrey, warm grey, cold grey, silver, purple, dark indigo, midnight blue, cobalt blue... They were all appearing infront of his eyes, multiplying with every stroke of his brush.

He couldn't remember when last he had slept through an entire day. Nor did he care. His inspiration had been relentless lately, and he relished every minute, every second of it. Sleep was a secondary need. Expression was a primary one.
The night that had passed, the night of the ball, had seen him return to his personal quarters overflowing with creativity, burning with an eagerness to paint, and to write. Beyonca in the alley had left such a vivid image in his head, that he didn't know where to start. She had been strength and vulnerability, confidence and exposure, class and rebellion, all at once. She had spurred pictures to paint, and poems to write. The images had come to him first. He'd barely had time to change from his somewhat dressy outfit to his usual worn and torn pair of jeans before he started going at it, and soon a background of various dark hues had been spreading out on the canvas, with a feminine form of ivory and creamy lavender appearing in the middle, locks of rich raven hair blending with the surroundings.
Then, the many words swimming in his head had started coming together, forming phrases of poetry that demanded to be written down. But he simply could not abandon the painting, nor could he ignore the words that were spilling out of him. He couldn't block them out, he couldn't even put them on hold.
And so they ended up becoming a part of the painting. Here and there, smokey mists appeared in the background, forming words and phrases barely distinguishable. At a first glance, they would appear to be nothing more than just another shifting of the colors, only there to make the female form stand out even more. But at a closer and careful look, the letters could be discerned, and the beautiful words called forth in Valerian's mind, by Beyonca, would be added to the overall impression.

But those were not the only details telling tales of what was on Valerian's mind. While painting, he had let his mind wander, dipping into various observations and happenings of the evening. One in particular. Though he didn't realize just how reccuring the thought had been, until he stepped back to take a look at the finished painting, and noticed the unnerving presence of a dark, threatening shadow looming in the background.
It was a figure that, despite being painted by his own hand, sent a chill padding up and down the artist's spine. And he couldn't help but to wonder... Was it a shadow that would grow to devour them all? Or would it simply fade away?
But no matter how long he stood staring at it, it would not provide him with an answer. And so finally he turned his back on it, amazed, and quite delighted, that a work of his own art could make him shiver.
One might think that he was simply patting himself on the back, that he was being smug and conceited. But then one would not know Valerian. When it came to his paintings, he humbly considered everyone else to be a better judge of their quality than himself. After all, it was his aim to reach out and touch people, to affect them and their moods with his humble works of art, and so who would be a better judge of whether or not he achieved his goal, than the very people he was looking to affect?

Though feedback would have to wait, for now. The painting had just been finished, and so was far from dry. It would be at least a day before he could put if up over the bar. If that was what he would choose to do. He still hadn't tired of the other one, but then again, it had only hung there for a few days. Perhaps he should give it a few more before he replaced it.

And speaking of which, it was time for him to get ready and go downstairs. Without giving the new painting another glance, he padded off to the bathroom, unbuttoning his jeans - his only article of clothing, save the underwear - and pushing them from his slender hips only when he came to a halt infront of the shower. There, however, he could not resist leaning back to peek out at the painting, as if fearing the shadow would leap out of the picture and slay him. Just like the person it portrayed had already slain a great number of his kin.
He knew he was being silly, acting much like a child scared of the boogeyman. But he couldn't help it. With the hunter's presence in the city, his vivid imagination was simply getting carried away. He didn't really expect that anything in the painting, or any painting for that matter, would come alive. He just needed to get used to it, that was all.

However, once in the shower, the painting was soon forgotten, washed from his mind as the hot water cascaded down his ivory limbs, soaking his long black hair in the process. He surrendered fully to the sensation, each tiny drop of water that hit his skin pushing any last trace of tension out of his body, leaving him to step out of the shower feeling completely relaxed and harminious. Quickly he dried himself off and exited the bathroom, squeezing and blotting his hair as he made his way over to the wardrobe. After considering his many options for a few minutes, he settled on his black leather pants, a somewhat snug black T-shirt, and black boots.
Once fully dressed, with his still damp tresses hanging soft and loose around his shoulders, he left his quarters, and made his way down to his beloved club, and cherished duties as host.


(((ooc: Approachable, wherever in the club. Also, I added to the ooc in the Adrien RP that he's approachable anywhere on the streets, and not just outside the church, since I figure not many Kindred might have any business there. *lol*)))

#18 [Seventh Night]

To most Kindred, time went by too fast. They only had the dark hours at their disposal within their society, and sometimes it was not enough. This night stood out though, as Archon found that he easily worked through piles of paper without feeling rushed. He gave his approval, rejected when it was called for and put down his signature here and there. Now and then, the phone rang and he did not feel annoyed even when the one who was calling could have sorted out his problem without disturbing his Primogen. It was almost as if Archon was in peace, that everything agreed with him this evening. Well, almost everything. There was a large shipment of books that had not arrived, and no one could tell him why. But not even this got a rise out of him. He dealt with it, he was even polite when he could have given them a piece of his mind.

Had Roe been by his side, he would have known. The Ventrue Primogen was too at ease, too accommodating and too composed even for a Ventrue of his caliber. At a time like this, Archon soothed his mind in order to make it clear. He could not be clouded by anger, as he needed to handle the matter with Beyonca with poise and cold hard facts. He could not miss something vital, for personal reasons. And he could not loose his temper, since it would not help his cause. As most Ventrue, Archon had an uncanny poker face. No one would know what went on in his mind, not even another Ventrue. Only Roe, and maybe Damian could read him a bit better than the rest. Others could only guess, or rely on what they did know. This was what scared some of them, if they knew Archon had a good reason to be upset, and he did not act on it. It was as if they wondered when he would step out from the shadows and strike back.

Actually, there had been a time in his unlife when he consealed himself in the shadows, in order to take care of Ventrue affairs. He had had quite the gift for it. They sent him on the prowl, and he got the job done without rising any suspicion. Victoria, his Sire, had made sure he got the best training available. He had become handy with the sword, and a few other tools of combat. But this was a long time ago. Unless something dire happened, he would not have to take to arms ever again. Even so, he knew he still possessed the skills, since he trained with Roe every other night. It was his responsibility, and need for that matter, to be on top of everything.
A subtle tapping on the thick door broke the silence. Archon was writing down a few sentences on a piece of paper. He did not stop, instead he continued until he was finished, before slipping it into an envelope. When he had put it away in a case and closed the laptop, he looked up. This was it. The time had come to unravel the mind of Beyonca.

"You may enter", he said and leaned back in his high chair, crafted in wood, iron and leather.

Being Primogen came with a huge responsibility. One could not rule with a firm hand, without a great deal of knowledge and wisdom behind every decision. The eyes and the mind had to know what the hands were doing, otherwise it would not be long before someone challenged the right to the Primogen throne. Of course, you had the occasional hard headed Primogen, that did not really care for the opinions among the clansmen. But every Primogen was now and then faced with the difficult task of deciding to go against the will of a brother or sister, because the situation called for it. That layed within the Primogen duties, to take steps in order to secure the clan and the Masquerade. And there were also matters that belonged to the grey zone, dilemmas that had no definite anwer.

Jessica Night #7:

Jessica awoke to the very dim light coming between a tiny cracks in her curtains. It was sunset, which meant it was time to get up and start her "day". She pushed back her covers and walked to her bathroom, where she took a long shower until all the hot water was gone. Getting dressed was easy for her because of all of her practice, and didn't take her long except for large events like the ball yesterday.
She picked out a simple light pink dress and put it on along with a white scarf draped around her neck. It wasn't exactly "club" material, but she might stop by another place later. And it was decently warm out side, so she could walk.
Walking to The Haven took around 45 minutes or so, but it was nice to get fresh air concidering she never got much. The Haven was crammed to the rim at all, just some sparsley placed people. She noticed the girl at the bar. That girl that made her worry a few nights ago. She sat purposefully at the bar, takings Valerian's advice not to worry about her.

((okay, tons of run-ons I'm sure. I haven't written in a while so i'm a little rusty. Sarah will come later. IS APPROACHABLE )

(((ooc: Great to see you posting again, Elektra.

Oh, and just to clarify something; Kindred are allowed to have a go at Adrien. As long as they don't kill him. Granted, Damian hasn't given an official statement regarding his feelings on the matter, but as long as the Masquerade isn't broken, fighting is allowed (unless in an Elysium). And that doesn't go only for Adrien, but for all Kindred. Just figured I'd mention it. )))